His lips curled up into a dangerous smile, the sort of expression you wear while revving your car at a red light before street racing someone you really, really want to leave far behind you. "What kind of petting are you offering, pretty Leah?" he asked, with the heat in his voice that suggested he'd be happy to rail me up against a tree, if I offered him the opportunity.

Hopefully the mud and mucky water thoroughly covered over any, you know, purely biological response to that.

"The kind that involves hair," I drawled.

Dain's smile sharpened. "You don't know everywhere that I have hair."

I snorted laughter before I could help myself; he smirked, one eyebrow flashing upwards for a moment.

"I'll be real, if you've got hair where you're implying, the sex really must be spectacular for women to keep coming back for it." I shook my head, trying not to laugh at the expression of catlike pleasure on his face. Whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be a treat. "I'm imagining, you know, friction burns places where you really don't want friction burns."

"I've never received a complaint, but you'll have to ask them if the friction burns are worth it," he purred back at me. "Though usually I only leave them on their elbows, knees, and shoulders."

"Really not a fan of satin sheets, hmm?" I asked with a grin, collecting my reins.

"Makes my fur staticky," Dain said casually.

He turned his black stag while I tried to pick up my jaw. He'd—that was a joke. About his body. What the hell? When had he flipped from anger at any mention of his physical differences to joking? Maybe it was some sort of coping thing, like how one of my disabled friends called herself a cripple and made jokes about her various physical problems, yet hated other people making similar jokes. It's different when you're picking on yourself.

Still, though.

I added it to my list of mismatched Dain facts, picked up my reins in my gritty fingers, and nudged my doe back into a trot to follow him through the woods. He led us at a moderate pace through the forest, on a path that was more of a wildlife trail than anything maintained for riding, which I guessed made sense, since we were riding deer. Dain actually seemed to be updating his route as we went, taking into account my mediocre riding skills. After this second fall, he avoided challenging terrain and jumps, and instead followed the natural trails animals made through the landscape.